How to Fly Without Wings
by howlsatthemoon
Summary: "Because I'm Lily, and you're Teddy, and I just can't do this." / Lily and Teddy, always trying too hard.


_Disclaimer: has been disclaimed multiple times. Harry Potter is JK Rowling's and Warner Bro's, lyrics are Maroon 5's. _

FFFFFFUUUUUUUU-

x

how to fly without wings

**(** lily & teddy** )**

_look for the girl  
__with the broken smile_

She has always been able to outrun him.

Her legs, flying out from under her, move gracefully on grass, concrete, kitchen tile, her red hair simply a blur of flame behind her. He watches in awe as she begins to disappear from his vision, she is running so fast, and every once in a while she manages to amaze him even further as he slowly doubts that this is not some kind of magical power. The power of flight.

But this time, it is not amazement he is feeling, nor is it wonder as her figure slowly fades into darkness. It is anger, maybe frustration, sadness, heartbreak. Anger that she won't look him in the eye. Frustration that he cannot catch up with her. Sadness that maybe she won't return this time. And heartbreak because he is eleven years too old and she is eleven years too young and no one said love was easy, but no one warned him it was this difficult, either.

"Lily, please wait," he calls out, his footsteps heavy and horse-like behind her silent, pixie feet. "_Let me explain_."

Miraculously, she stops, but she seems miles ahead of him now. "There is _nothing_ to explain, Teddy," she screams back to him, and even from this distance, this divide between them, he can see the teardrops carving their way into her face.

"Why do you always have to _run_?" he asks, his voice echoing.

"Because I'm Lily, and you're Teddy, and I just can't do this," she says back softly, and turns around and _flies_.

x

He sees her next at (wow, is it getting hot or here or is it just cliché?) James's I-got-into-the-Chudley-Cannons-and-therefore-have-a-future-hahahahaha party. Ron, clearly inebriated, is on a table hugging Dragomir Gorgovitch, who by now has snowflake-white hair and horribly wrinkly skin, his frail body looking dangerously about to snap as Ron tugs the ex-player to his chest.

Beside him, Albus laughs, holding a bottle of Firewhiskey. One second, the younger boy is chatting with him, his words beginning toslurtogethereversoslightly, perfectly at ease, and then the next his eyes are widening, his hand tightening around the bottle's neck and he promptly turns on his heels and leaves to talk to someone else without so much as a warning.

Swearing a bit, Teddy begins to walk over to him when a too-familiar touch tickles his shoulder and he spins around and, wow, it's nice to know that two weeks have done her good.

"Teddy," she murmurs, emerald eyed wonder.

He chokes a little bit on the alcohol in his mouth. "Lily," he replies nervously. "Can I help you?"

She rolls her eyes, the hint of a smirk on her lips. "It's 'may I help you,'" she corrects gently, "and yes." Firmly, she pulls his wrist into her grasp and Apparates them both into the front yard, where there is no one present except for a couple too busy snogging to notice the couple.

"And…?" he throws in, feigning impatience. But she knows him too well. She knows that he would not dare rush the time he spends beside her.

"Teddy," she says in a tiny little voice, "I'm tired."

He narrows his eyes, avoiding her gaze and staring at the cracks in the ground. "What are you talking about?"

"Running, Teddy," she responds, "I'm tired as hell of running away. So I am going to sit here and we are going to talk and you are going to like it." Demanding as ever. He pretends he doesn't love her.

It's harder than he thought. "There is nothing to talk about," he protests quickly, and stands up, not understanding why on Earth he would leave when she is giving him this damned perfect opportunity to confess that love he's been harboring for, oh, say, about forever and a day?

His feet move swiftly but she is ninja-reflex quick. In seconds she is right next to him. "Teddy, please don't do this," she pleads, and it is breaking his HEART.

"Why not?" he bites back bitterly. "You've done it to me plenty of times."

Her feet move about two steps and she's in front of him, so quick he almost crashes into her. "Which is why we need to _stop_," she demands desperately. "Teddy, _I love you_."

Those damn words. Those _damn_ words that bring him to his knees. "I can't _do _this," he declares, mimicking her, and her entire back stiffens because, wow, didn't know that the pain you inflict hurts that horribly. "Yes. Okay. So I am going to leave."

He feels like a child but the instinct takes over as he takes a step and suddenly the wind is pushing past his frame, whistling in his ears, speed swallowing him up. He runs, flies, flees, but she has always been faster (not only on foot but in mind, too, which is really very sad because, let's self-destruct, she is _eleven years younger_.)

She Apparates in front of him and throws herself into his chest, hot tears rubbing against his neck. "That's cheating," he murmurs into the top of her head and she looks up at him with _those eyes, _frowning.

"I don't give a crap," she tells him, and he hoists her up uncontrollably, her legs immediately wrapping around his lean waist and she presses her lips against his, softly, unsure, wanting, needing, longing. "I'm not going to run anymore," she whispers, hot breath against his cheek, and maybe everything's not okay. Maybe he doesn't know whether to believe her. Maybe he might be the one running this time. Maybe Harry will kill him and she won't want to get married and maybe those three words will get stuck to the roof of his mouth like peanut butter. Maybe it's not a perfect happy ever after.

But as she presses her face into his neck, her sweet chocolate scent above all else, he knows this is what it must feel like to fly.

_fin_.

x

Slightly pointless. But I just really needed to post something. Currently using up all inspiration for writing Confessions of a Teenage Weasley.


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